Methods to Madness
by UmaimaMemon
Summary: Germany has recently decided to open up a therapist office, and soon finds himself treating most countries. However, his education has not prepared him for dealing with Snapped Italy- who wants to kill everyone in sight.
1. Author's Note

**Author's Note:**

**Alright, this is my FIRST attempt as writing a FanFiction, so don't hate on me if it stinks.**

**Since this is a Hetalia Fancfiction, there's going to be A LOT of minor characters, A LOT of OCs and A LOT of subplots. Bear with me, please?**

**There's probably going to be a lot of authors' notes at the end of each chapter to explain a few of the OCs that will appear, so keep an eye out for them! I'll put up a list of the ones that appear once I finish it.**

**Thanks for reading!**


	2. Prologue: Doctor Germany PhD

The office was full to the brim with countries.

They were standing around in the medium-sized office lobby, some sitting in cushioned chairs lining the walls, others scattered around the room and chatting with those nearest to them, and some standing in a line in front of a desk. Behind the desk was a woman with her mahogany hair in a loose bun. The plaque on the desk read "Nicolette Adams, Secretary". On the other side of the room was a plastic faux-wood door with a small window overlooking the hallway outside. There was a plaque on the window, and even backwards one could make out what it said. "Doctor Ludwig Beilschmidt, Ph.D.".

"Name?" Nicolette asked, her voice all business as she typed something on the computer in front of her.

A fist came down on her desk, causing her to jump and rip her attention away from the screen. She looked up, right into the resentful amber gaze of Lovino Vargas.

"My brother made me come here." He half-yelled at Nicolette. She resisted the urge to sigh as she pushed her wire-rimmed glasses up the bridge of her nose; obscuring her bright green eyes.

"Name?" She asked again, pointedly ignoring his statement.

Lovino opened his mouth to tell her, but was interrupted as a shadow fell across the table. Nicolette blinked, looking up in surprise at a tall figure with blue eyes and slicked back blond hair.

Doctor Germany looked even more imposing in his pristine white dress shirt and ironed black pants, and for a second every country in the room was dead silent.

That was, until Lovino started yelling at him. "Hey, potato bastard! You know if you split 'therapist' into two words, it's 'the' and 'rapist'? Is that what you do to my brother? Do you rape my brother?"

Nicolette could almost swear she thought she saw a sweat drop slide down the back of his head. She watched the scene with detached interest as Romano continued to yell at Germany, wondering if she shouldn't have taken the job after all. One thing was for certain; this would no doubt be the most interesting job she would ever have.


	3. Chapter 1: Unexpected

Chapter 1:

Unexpected

Name:

Feliciano Vargas

History:

Taken away from family at birth by his Grandfather; Rome. Lived in the Holy Roman Empire's house for some time, but now lives with his family.

Personality:

Useless, but upbeat and happy.

Mental Illness:

ADHD

Relatives:

Florence: Daughter

Milan: Son, Twin of Venice

Roma: Daughter

Romano: Younger Brother

Rome: Grandfather (Deceased)

Sicily: Younger Brother

Tuscany: Son

Venice: Son, Twin of Milan

Notes:

Frequently has a white flag, enjoys eating pasta, close friends with Germany. Had a relationship (?) with Holy Rome. Was abused by Austria during his time at Holy Rome's house.

* * *

Germany looked up from the manila folder, resisting the urge to sigh. The file had told him nothing he didn't already know.

His eyes rested upon Italy, who was practically bouncing up and down in excitement on the therapist chair. Germany took in the auburn-haired Italian, trying to see him through the eyes of a doctor rather than a friend. That, of course, was impossible. Feliciano Vargas would always be his friend first, then his patient.

"What can I do-" Germany began, struggling to keep his voice calm, detached and- most of all, professional. He was interrupted by Feliciano pretty quickly.

"DOITSU~" He sang, prolonging the last syllable for three seconds.

Ludwig sighed and ran a hand through his hair, studying his hyperactive friend.

"Italy, you do know that I can't treat ADHD, right?" He asked.

Italy froze, his amber eyes wide and innocent.

"What's ADHD?" He asked, his voice small and decidedly child-like.

Doctor Ludwig studied him, trying not to let disbelief show. How was it possible for a grown man to still be a child? Germany hadn't screened Italy for any brain damage- maybe it was possible that his mental development was a few centuries behind…

"Let me prescribe some pills for it so you can leave." Germany said, pulling out a pad of paper and a pen.

Italy looked at him, lower lip jutting out slightly. "But I wanted to talk to my Doitsu." He said, a little sadly.

Ludwig refrained from pointing out the possessive. _My_ Doitsu. Had anyone else said it that way, Germany would have killed them.

For Italy, it was just one of the things that made him Italy. Like his unhealthy love of pasta and general cheerfulness.

_Gets attached to people too easily._ Wrote Germany on his file, under the "personality" section.

"I suppose I can spare some time." Germany lied a little reluctantly. In truth, his schedule was jam packed until seven, when he could leave.

"Ve~" Italy cheered.

"My file says that you were taken from your home at an early age by your grandfather." Germany said, glancing back up from his file. Italy nodded with such fervor he looked like a bobble head.

"Si! He was the bestest Grandfather ever!" He said with a smile. Germany felt a sudden surge of fondness for his friend, almost paternal.

"And you have two brothers, Sicily and Romano." Ludwig knew that much already, but he still said it; more as a formality than anything else.

"Yeah! They're the bestest brothers ever!" Italy cheered.

Germany scanned the sheet of paper, looking around for something he didn't learn directly from his patient.

"Your file also says that you were abused by Austria as a child." Germany looked at Italy, gauging his reaction.

The effect was immediate. The Italian froze; eyes wide.

"He used to step on me whenever I did something wrong." Italy said softly.

A surge of sympathy went through Ludwig. No doubt Italy wouldn't have handled it well; his friend had always been so breakable- so fragile.

"I see." Germany began, aware of the awkwardness settling in the air. "Do you want to talk about it?" He asked hesitantly.

Italy shook his head mutely, staring at the carpet.

"Are you sure, because-" Germany was interrupted as Italy sprang at him, a wild, crazy light in his eyes. His body slammed into Germany's, knocking him off his chair and onto the floor. Germany's head hit the thin carpet hard, and his vision flashed black for a second. When it finally cleared, Italy was sitting on his chest, a discarded pen raised high above his head like a dagger.

"I said _no."_ He hissed.

Germany struggled under him. "Okay! We won't talk about it!"

"Now DIE." Feliciano said, his eyes liked with rage and insanity.

Germany's heartbeat sped. He had never seen Italy like this.

"SECURITY!" Germany yelled, twisting his head to escape the first stab of the pen. It hit the carpet right where his eyes would have been.

Italy snarled, lips pulling over his canines like an animal and raised his arm for another blow- one that would definitely hit home, when three burly security guards burst into the room.

Ludwig watched them drag a screaming Italy out of the room, his breathing hard as he lay on the floor.

With shaking hands, he gripped the nearest piece of furniture- his chair- and stood up. Germany walked to his laptop, lying on his desk a few feet away and opened up Google.

A few seconds later, he had the answer.

Dissociative Identity Disorder.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

** Sorry if it seems repetitive or sudden. I didn't really have much time to review this chapter.**

** Next one will be out soon-ish. Maybe Tuesday.**

** Link to this Fanfic on DeviantArt:**

** umaimamemon (dot) com/#/d4xvf6w**


	4. Chapter 2: Arturo

Chapter 2:

Arturo

The next few hours passed in a haze of confusion and worry for Germany. Promptly at seven, he hurried out his office with a hasty order to Nicole to lock up and ran through the streets until he reached the hospital.

Once he arrived, he pushed the doors open and printed through the hallways until he reached the mental ward, where he was screened and processed by security. He barely registered their orders, simply following them; his mind consumed with worry.

A nurse led him to a room, empty save for a few chairs. The whole left wall was a window, overlooking a similar room.

Italy was in the room.

He looked scared and a little wild. His hair was a mess, and his eyes were wide and terrified.

"We had to keep him in a straitjacket because he was a danger to himself." The nurse said sympathetically. "He has-"

"Dissociative Identity Disorder. I know." Germany interrupted, walking closer to the glass and inspecting his friend with worry.

Dissociative Identity Disorder was more of a myth to the scientific community than something real. One form of multiple personality disorder, it was characterized by two separate personalities in the same body. The second personality normally came into being as a coping mechanism, after something traumatic had happened to the normal personality. The new one generally embodied everything the normal personality wanted to be, an generally was completely opposite of the normal one. Most of the time, research suggested that one personality generally had no idea that it was coexisting with another being, instead having unexplainable gaps in their memory. The other personality had some idea of what was happening, however. The new personality normally came out when something traumatic came up to the normal personality.

The nurse nodded, agreeing. After a few seconds where no one spoke, she finally left the room. Feliciano's eyes locked with Germany's.

"Doistsu!" He cried, obviously relieved. Italy looked so scared- a fact that the straitjacket did little to conceal.

Germany nodded, not trusting himself to speak past the lump in his throat and walked so close to the glass he was touching it.

"Germany, please help me." Italy pleaded. Germany watched his friend, struggling to keep his expression neutral and detached.

Ludwig finally shook his head, nearly giving in at Italy's heartbroken expression.

"Germany, please!" He begged, tears springing into Feliciano's eyes. "I'm scared." he whispered.

Germany refrained from saying that he was too. Instead he spun on his heel ad fled the room; unable to bear it anymore. He ignored Italy's desperate pleas for help, running down the halls and only stopping when he emerged outside.

Only then did he turn back to the building, tears sliding down his cheeks.

"I'm so sorry." he choked out.

* * *

Italy's eyes narrowed as he watched Feliciano's 'friend' flee from the scene. This Italy preferred to be called Arturo, and physically resembled Feliciano in every way possible.

It was his mind that was completely twisted.

Arturo didn't bother struggling against the bonds of his straitjacket as Feliciano had earlier. It was futile. At least this gave him time to plot his next moves.

In truth, Arturo was tired of being underestimated. He was tired of being pushed aside and deemed 'useless'. He was tired of being labeled as "stupid" and a waste of space. He had to show everyone what he was truly capable of.

But before all that, he had to get revenge on a certain Austrian…

* * *

**I PLANNED to update yesterday, but was held up with homework and stuff.**

**Anyway, Arturo is pronounced like "Arthur", but a little softer. I planned to call Feliciano's alter-ego Aruto, because it flowed better. It's pronounced like Naruto without the "N" sound at the beginning. I'm still undecided. What do you guys think?**

**In the next chapter, be prepared to meet Cambridge, London and Moscow!**

***Some people were confused about this, but cities pop out of nowhere. Technically, their countries are their parents, but cities can bear little to no resemblance to their countries and be entirely different. Therefore, Italy has no children, but at the same time does. Confusing, right?**


	5. Chapter 3: Bloody Hell

Chapter 3:

Bloody Hell

Arthur Kirkland sipped his tea uncomfortably, all too aware of the fact that he was sandwiched between his son; Cambridge, and the arm of his sofa. It was only supposed to fit two people, not three.

_At least it's better than being Cambridge at the moment_. England thought, shooting a glance at his son.

Gavin was sitting at the very edge of sofa- at the very forefront. He adjusted his black reading glasses; pushing them up his nose, but then took them off. He toyed with them nervously with his hands and shot a none-too-conspicuous glance to his left, at the third person sitting on the sofa.

Russia was playing with his pipe, a bemused smile on his face. England felt his blood run cold at the sight- Russia scared the trousers off of him.

England coughed and took another sip of his tea, returning his attention to Gavin.

Cambridge was wearing a blazer over his crisp white dress shirt, and his long fingers were fiddling with the material of his slacks. Even though cities were asexually reproduced- as in; they popped out of nowhere in the country, all cities somewhat resembled their countries. Cambridge's blond hair was in a messy mop atop his head and some of it fell into his striking green eyes. Since all three of them had been abruptly called into England's sitting room, Cambridge had very little time to brush it. The effect made him look like even more of a bookworm than he was.

"Daddy!" A voice sang from the doorway. England resisted the urge to sigh as he turned his head to the door.

London came through the door, dragging Moscow behind her.

England felt a momentary rush of surprise when he noted that London's long blonde tresses looked slightly wind-blown, like she hasn't brushed it before coming in. Chloe was meticulous about her appearance, always checking and double-checking to make sure not even an eyelash was out of place. Either someone was dying, or she was excited.

Judging by the way she was practically jumping up and down in her black ballet flats, and the fact that her cat's green eyes were so bright Arthur resisted the urge to squint- he opted for the latter.

London was dressed like she usually was, in a black pleated skirt that felt a few inches above her knees and a short-sleeved button-up white dress shirt with a black tie. A white headband held her hair away from her face. She resembled her father in some ways, like their facial structure, but other than that; one could barely tell.

Moscow was holding London's hand, their fingers entwined. Moscow was a good half-foot taller than her, and resembled his father so much that they seemed more like brothers. They both had the same purple eyes and pale blond hair. The only difference was that Moscow's was longer and fell around his face in a stylishly messy way.

"Daddy!" London sang again. Moscow gave her an affectionate smile, and it was all Arthur could do to keep from barfing.

"What is it?" He asked with a sigh, crossing his legs and setting down his tea, reaching for a newspaper instead.

"I have BIG news!" London said excitedly. England shot her a look over the top of his newspaper, but otherwise ignored it. London's idea of "big news" was the new mall that had opened a few streets down. Arthur wasn't overly concerned.

"Why, exactly, did you drag all of us here?" Cambridge asked, looking ready to flee from the room. England couldn't blame him- even _sitting _next to Russia was enough to scar someone for life.

Chloe looked at Moscow for support, suddenly looking nervous. Moscow smiled and let go of her hand, approaching England and stopping when he was right in front of him. Arthur resisted the urge to lean as far back into the couch as he could- Alec Braginski terrified him as much as his father did.

"I took London out on a picnic today." Moscow began; his strange purple eyes serious. Gavin rolled his eyes, and Arthur could already tell what he was thinking. Despite the fact that London and Moscow has been together for a few decades now, London still went on about every single one of their dates.

"And…?" Arthur prompted, glancing at his watch. He had a meeting with the prime minister in a half hour and couldn't be late. Arthur reached for his tea again, taking a sip just as Moscow spoke.

"We are engaged."

England spat out his tea, coughing. Gavin pounded on his back.

"You're WHAT?" England finally shouted when he recovered, shooting an accusatory look at his daughter.

London just looked calmly back at her father.

"Moscow proposed to me, dad. And I said yes." She said, lifting her chin a little.

England's head felt like it was about to explode.

"You can't get married! You're only- wait, how old are you again?" England looked to Cambridge for help. He was better at this kind of stuff than Arthur.

In response, Gavin shrugged helplessly, running a hand through his hair. "A few millennia."

"Dad! You can't just tell me what I can and can't do!" London said, exasperated.

Arthur threw his newspaper onto the coffee table. "Yes, I can! I am your father, and you WILL follow my rules."

"And why not?" London challenged.

England bit back his real response. _Because I don't want to be in-laws with __**them**_. Russia would probably bash his head in with a pick-axe if he voiced his opinion. Arthur rather liked having his skull in one piece.

"Because the two of you are too young!" England finally said, beginning to stand.

"I'm going to have a daughter-in law?" Russia asked; his eyes bright and happy. England ignored the fact that the sound of his voice made his skin crawl.

"See! Russia's fine with it!" London pointed out, gesturing to Ivan.

England couldn't believe this. "I think we've all established that Russia is a raving psychopath." He shot back before he thought about it. Arthur internally whacked himself. Russia would definitely kill him for this.

"Did you just call my father a raving psychopath?" Moscow asked, stepping towards Arthur with an menacing glint in his eye.

London laid a calming hand on Alec's shoulder, stopping him.

"Dad-" She began. Arthur cut her off before she could start, turning towards the door.

"You are not getting married, and that is final." He said, about to make a dramatic exit, but Chloe's voice stopped him.

"Dad, there's more." She called out after him, her voice hesitant.

England turned towards her, an eyebrow arched in expectation.

London sighed, but motioned for Moscow to sit down. He did so, looking at London with concern. Arthur bit back the surprise he felt. Whatever this was, Alec didn't know either.

"Well?" Cambridge asked when London didn't speak.

Chloe took a deep breath, steadying herself. When she opened her mouth, Arthur could tell she was choosing her words very carefully.

"I'm pregnant." She said.

"Bloody hell." Gavin swore.

Arthur clutched at the doorway for support, feeling dizzy.

_That about sums it up._

* * *

**Hope you enjoyed this one. Sorry for all the OC characters. XD**_  
_

**Just to clear a few things up, getting married for countries/cities in my fanfic can go two ways:**

**1. Their countries form an alliance (like Hungary and Austria), or:**

**2. They're married in the traditional sense, where they move in together and stuff. This is the case for London and Moscow. I remember reading a fanfic on DeviantArt called "I'm asking Elizaveta" by PurpleSkyJuliet (I think it's on Fanfiction too), and it said that countries were people first, then their countries. I thought the idea seemed really interesting.**

**And now, for the character profiles!**

**1. London, AKA: Chloe Kirkland**

**Description: Long blonde hair, green eyes, usually wearing a black pleated skirt, dress shirt and tie. You can see my friend's drawing of her here: mintay-chan (dot) deviantart (dot) com/gallery/#/d4ttlsh (There's more Citytalia drawings there too, so take a look at her gallery!)**

**2. Cambridge, AKA: Gavin Kirkland:**

**Description: (Sorry she hasn't posted a drawing of him yet! I'm pretty sure she'll get around to it...) Messy blond hair that is mostly combed straight. Green eyes. Normally dressed in a dress shirt, brown-ish overcoat thing (KIND of like Sherlock Holms...) and slacks. Sometimes wears black glasses.**

**3. Moscow, AKA: Alec Braginski (I don't know if i should change the spelling of his first name of Aleyck or keep it Alec. Aleyck seems more Russian, but is so much more work to type. :/ What do you guys think?)**

**Description: Looks like his father, but with longer hair and a more teenager-ish look.**

**Also, the friend that drew the citytalia stuff has an ask blog on tumblr for them. Why not check it out? askcitytalia (dot) tumblr (dot) com**

**Not to mention, she wrote a pretty cool snapped Italy one-shot. Its on fanfiction, and it's called "The sweetest Pasta Sauce", by Broken Crown.**


	6. Chapter 4: Blades are Safer than Knives

Chapter 4:

Blades are Safer Than Knives

"I'm going to have a grandchild?" Russia asked, beaming like London had just agreed to become one with him.

London nodded, her gaze fixed on the floor.

"I'm going to be a father?" Moscow asked, stunned. Again, London nodded, keeping her gaze resolutely fixed on the tiled floor.

"I'm going to be an uncle?" Cambridge looked even more shocked than Moscow. England would have laughed on the sheer absurdity of it had he not been trying to get his grip on reality.

"For the love of god, does everything need to be spelt out for you, Gavin?" Chloe snapped. "Yes, okay! I'm going to be a mom!"

The silence in the room stretched on for eternity. Moscow finally broke it.

"London, that's great!" He said with a smile, getting up and wrapping his arms around his fiancé.

Arthur leaned against the doorway, pushing aside his shock and finally speaking up.

"What did you two _do_?" He demanded, trying to ignore the nausea in his stomach.

London gave her father an annoyed look. "What do you think?" She asked sarcastically.

Arthur felt the tips of his ears go red. Countries could have children- but it was extremely rare. With cities it was more normal; the children born became towns.

Moscow ignored Arthur, pulling away from Chloe and brushing a strand of hair away from her face. "I have the perfect names!" He said, beaming.

London looked at him expectantly, and Alec went on. "If it's a boy, we can name him Knives Arthur Braginski, and of it's a girl, we can name her Blade Artura Braginski; because Blades are safer than knives." Alec smiled, the same insane smile as his father. Slightly bemused, but with a dreamy look in his eyes.

Arthur looked on with horror. "See? See the type of people you fall in love with?" He asked.

Chloe didn't say anything for a long time, her lower lip trembling. Then, she suddenly burst into tears.

Ivan and Alec were the first to respond, they both went to London in an attempt to comfort her. Moscow by giving her a hug, and Russia by rubbing her shoulder. Chloe sobbed into Alec's shoulder, loud and hysterical.

"Must be the pregnancy hormones." Cambridge muttered, getting up from the sofa and brushing past the three to go to his room. The comment caused London to stop crying long enough to whack him in the back of his head hard enough to make him wince, but she returned to sobbing soon after.

England pushed away from the doorway and approached them hesitantly. Russia moved aside, and Arthur laid a comforting hand on his daughter's shoulder.

She turned away from her future husband, throwing herself into her father's arms and hugging him tightly. Arthur stroked London's blonde hair, like he did when she was a child, and returned her hug.

"It's going to be alright." England promised. London sobbed even harder.

"I'm scared." She choked out, her face buried in Arthur's dress shirt. He briefly realized he was late for the meeting with his boss, but banished the thought at soon as it came.

_I'm scared too._ Arthur thought, squeezing her tightly. He was scared of being in-laws with a psychopath- no, a whole _family_ of psychopaths, scared of dealing with Russia, but- most of all- he was afraid of letting London down like he had let America down all those years ago.

But instead of voicing his thoughts, Arthur simply hugged his daughter tighter. "It's going to be alright." He repeated, praying to god that he could keep that promise.

* * *

**In all honesty, I didn't plan on putting this chapter up until tomorrow, even though it was already finished. I finally decided to put it up when I realized one could only watch SO many Doctor Who reruns before getting bored.**

**Oh well.**

**As an explanation to why London and Moscow are in a relationship rather than anyone else- after all, they seem like the two cities _least_ likely to be together- I have no idea. I'm positive there was some sensible reason when my friends and I first came up with these characters, but it was forgotten. The only reason I can give is the fact that it's funny.**

**I've heard a lot of crack pairings- both Hetalia and otherwise (like RussiaxItaly. That's not even a pairing. That is _rape._)- but EnglandxRussia is one of the funnier ones. Russia scares the heck out of everyone, including England. But the reason England is terrified of him (in my opinion) has less to do with the fact that he's scary and more to do with the fact that every single magical curse, spell or whatever never works on him. What's the point of having magic if it doesn't work, right?**

**Oh well. I have the next chapter finished, but don't expect it for a few more days. Until then, thanks for reading!**


	7. Chapter 5: Since I Last Saw You

Chapter 5:

Since I Last Saw You…

Elizaveta Hedervary was not known for her patience.

At the moment, she was pacing through the dining room of her house, fiddling nervously with the hem of her blouse. She had specially called Taiwan to help her get ready for this, even though Hungary despised make-up. She had to look nice for this, though. Even if it meant checking a mirror every five seconds to make sure her hair wasn't coming undone or her eyeliner wasn't coming off.

At the moment, her chestnut hair was pulled back into a smooth pony-tail, and her green eyes had been skillfully outlined by Mei's calm, unwavering hand. The liner made them seem smoky and sexy, rather than just green.

She mashed her lips together nervously, and they slid on the gloss she had slicked on earlier.

Elizaveta leaned against the dining room table, casting yet another nervous glance at the clock hanging on the wall. It was still five minutes to three, which meant he would be here in…

The doorbell rang. Hungary leapt off the dining table and raced towards the door, forgetting to double-check her appearance in her haste to open it.

Austria stood in front of the doorway, and Elizaveta felt a smile grace her mouth. She hadn't seen Roderich in ages- ever since he took off to "develop his musical talents" six months ago. He looked the same in his deep blue coat and black pants, and his glasses were low on the bridge of his nose.

To be honest, Elizaveta wasn't sure what she was expecting. Her feelings about Austria had been mixed ever since their divorce, but she had always relied on him, and in return, she supported him. Theirs was a simple relationship, and had lost all the post-marriage awkwardness Hungary had expected.

"Roderich!" Elizaveta exclaimed, stepping outside and giving her friend a hug. She was surprised when he hugged her back without hesitating- Austria had never been the affectionate type.

She pulled away and drank in the sight of him.

"You haven't changed a bit." Eliza teased as she ushered him inside and to the dining area. Their meal was already set out, and they took their respective places at the table, across from each other.

Roderich smiled back. "I would say the same of you." He replied, taking a sip of the water Eliza had set out earlier.

Elizaveta smiled, looking down at her plate. Despite all their ups and downs, conversation came naturally to them.

Eliza studied her former husband when he was looking away.

_I didn't realize how much I missed him until he was gone._ Eliza reflected. In truth, she still liked the Austrian, but somehow, the feeling felt more reclusive. She had to really think about it before it came back to her, full-force. When she first saw him, she had expected it to be within reach, but it was hiding in the recesses of her mind.

Roderich met her gaze curiously, taking a sip of the traditional Hungarian goulash she had prepared earlier.

"Is something wrong?" He asked, concern filling his dark blue eyes. Hungary thought briefly of a time when just the sight of them made her head swim, but now the feeling was less. Not entirely gone- but not entirely there either.

Elizaveta shook her head in response, changing the conversation. "So, how was your trip?" She asked, keeping her voice light.

Austria smiled, instantly launching into a conversation about exactly what had happened over the six months he had been gone.

Hungary tuned him out, instead watching him. She was suddenly reminded of all the little reasons why she had fallen in love with him. When he spoke about music, his eyes lit up with joy and became animated, the way he sometimes looked at her- affectionate and kind, how when he played the piano, it was like he was unstoppable. Even more reasons went through her mind; his laugh, his grin- all the happy, perfect moments they had together. Each shining one preserved in her kind like a photo- just waiting for Eliza to remember it.

"Elizaveta? Are you paying attention?" Austria asked, watching her closely.

Smiling ruefully, Eliza shook her head. "I'm sorry." She apologized, trying to come up with an excuse that didn't sound stupid.

Before she could, however, Roderich continued. "I loved it, being able to share my music with all those people. But I missed a lot of things while I was away." Roderich's dark blue eyes were strangely intense as they focused on Eliza.

"Like…?" She probed.

"Home, for one." He began with a faraway look in his eyes. He snapped back to attention quickly, though. "But I also missed... You."

Eliza stared at him; sure he meant it in a friendly way. She was about to joke with him about it, but he continued.

"I hadn't realized how much you meant to me until I was gone, and every day- yours was the face I saw." Austria slid out of his seat and came around the table until he was standing next to Eliza's seat. She looked up at him, eyes wide.

"Eliza, I'm sorry I left with such little warning." He hesitated a little, pausing like he was unsure of whether or not to continue.

But he went on, like the words had to come out, even if they didn't sound quite right. Eliza watched with stunned disbelief as Roderich Edelstein sank down on one knee and pulled a small velvet box out of the pocket of his pants.

"Elizaveta Hedervary, will you marry me?" He asked. For a second, it felt as if this one moment was going to go one forever, like the world had stopped spinning just for this second. The silence in the room seemed to go on forever as Eliza desperately searched for her voice.

_Screw it._ She thought, giving up the search. She was afraid that if she wasted even a single second, he would take back his words.

Instead, she just nodded.

* * *

**And now, I have finally gotten around to the major romantic plot in this fanfic.**

**Yes, I know Austria isn't acting quite like himself. It's harder than I expected portraying him. Hopefully next time he appears he'll be more Austria-like.**

**Anyway, are you guys PruHun or AusHun? And no, PruAus is not a choice. I'm not a yaoi fangirl. This will not contain any yaoi ships. I'm not completely against it if the ship makes sense, but if it's just so that you can put two guys together I really hate it. **

**I don't know when I'll post the next chapter, but it might be sometime late next week. The next chapter will probably have Prussia in it, and the chapter after that will be back to Arturo and Germany.**


	8. Chapter 6: The Sound of a Broken Heart

Chapter 6:

The Sound of a Broken Heart

_Lizzie's face hovered in the very center of Prussia's dream. She was kneeling on her knees, her eyes closed as she smelled the small wildflower that had grown in the middle of their meadow._

_Gilbert made a move to walk towards her, feeling his face arrange itself into a grin when she looked up._

_Elizaveta smiled back, accepting the hand Gilbert offered to her and stood up, releasing his hand to twine her arms around his neck._

_"Did you miss the awesome me?" Gilbert joked. Lizzie laughed, but didn't reply. Instead, she raised herself on her tip-toes, her forehead gently brushing Gilbert's as her lips came closer…_

Gilbert Beilschmidt was abruptly pulled out of his dream by the sound of his alarm.

_Dammit_. He thought, groaning. Just when he was getting to a good part…

Gilbert lay in his bed for a few more minutes, shaking off his sleepiness. He finally rolled out of his bed, stretching his arms above his head and yawning before checking the time.

11 A.M. Still a full hour before he was supposed to meet Lizzie at the meadow. Gilbert made his way to the shower, wondering what she had been up to yesterday. He hadn't heard from her at all, even though he had sent her at least ten text messages.

After a quick shower, Prussia pulled on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt before slipping his feet into a pair of converse and heading out the door. The walk to their meadow was a little less than ten minutes, but Gilbert wanted to get there before Lizzie so he could surprise her.

Instead, Gilbert was the one who was surprised when he saw that Elizaveta was already there.

Just like in his dream, she was kneeling down in the shade of the large oak tree in the very center of the clearing, her eyes closed as she smelled it. A faint smile played on her lips, and Gilbert felt his heart warm at the sight of her.

"Did you miss the awesome me?" Gilbert called out as he approached her. His hands were shoved deep into his pockets, and an easy-going grin was plastered on his face.

Liz looked up, smiling.

"In your dreams." She teased. Gilbert felt his grin going even wider when he realized how true that was.

He flopped the ground next to her, leaning against the tree. She joined him a heartbeat later, playing with the blades of grass by her feet.

"Where we're you yesterday? We were supposed to go with Antonio and Bella to dinner." Gilbert asked conversationally.

Eliza gave him an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry. I called Bella to tell her I couldn't make it. Sorry I stood you up."

Gilbert frowned. "You called Bella, but not the awesome me?"

"I planned on it, but my phone died." Eliza said; a heartbeat too fast. Gilbert had known her for a long enough time to tell when she was lying.

He decided against pressing the matter. "Did you hear that London and Moscow are engaged?" He asked.

Lizzie shook her head. "Seriously? I bet Arthur is _thrilled_." She rolled her eyes.

"Kesesese. You should have seen him yesterday. He looked ready to shoot himself." Gilbert laughed at the memory. The Englishman had indeed seemed that way, and it would have been comical had Gilbert not been worried about Elizaveta.

Hungary laughed, and the sound caused Prussia's heart to best faster.

"Seriously? I wonder why Arthur agreed. I thought the last thing he wanted was to be related to Ivan." She snickered again at the thought of Arthur's terrified face.

"The awesome me has no idea. I think they're having their engagement party Friday night." Gilbert began. And then- just because he felt his courage would desert him if he didn't ask now- "Do you want to be the awesome Prussia's date?"

Lizzie frowned, but shook her head. "I'm going with Austria." She said.

Prussia felt as if his heart had stopped beating. Then, as if to make matters worse, she continued.

"We're engaged."

* * *

**AHHH. This chapter took _forever_ to write. The next chapter will probably have a continuation of this scene, and then I'm going to go back to the main story line.**

**Expect an update around Thursday. Thanks for reading!**


	9. Chapter 7: Tell Me Why

Chapter 7:

Tell Me Why

_So this is what a broken heart feels like._ Prussia thought.

It wasn't anything like he expected. His face kept grinning, he kept breathing- on the outside, everything seemed fine.

But on the inside, his chest felt like it was being ripped to shreds. The pain was as palpable as if someone ripped his chest cavity open with their nails and pulled his heart out.

"That's great, Liz!" Gilbert said enthusiastically. On the inside, however, he was screaming at her.

_He leaves without saying goodbye, and the second he comes back, you just fall into his arms?_

_Can't you see __**I'm**__ here? Can't you see that I've ALWAYS been here, that I've ALWAYS loved you?_

Elizaveta beamed. "I was with him all day yesterday." She began. It felt as if the air was ripped from Gilbert's lungs- like someone had sucker punched him.

Lizzie looked ready to continue, but stopped when her phone started ringing.

"It's Roderich. I promised him we'd go out." Lizzie said. Gilbert felt like grabbing her shoulders and shaking her. _They_ had plans for lunch later. What happened to those?

"I guess I'll see you later." Gilbert said, his voice coming out slightly strangled. Of course, Elizaveta didn't notice.

Lizzie nodded and left the meadow without so much as a good-bye.

Was Gilbert the only one who heard the shattering sound as his heart broke?

Prussia had no idea how long he stayed outside, under the shade of that oak tree. He was completely still, barely reacting to anything- even as the sun dipped lower and lower in the sky.

Finally, he heard someone approach. Gilbert didn't even glance to see who it was. He just kept staring at the grass, numb.

"It's getting late." West said, settling down next to his older brother.

Prussia said nothing.

"I heard about Elizaveta." Ludwig finally said.

"I'm sorry." Ludwig said quietly. For some reason, those words rubbed Prussia the wrong way. He let out a humorless bark of laughter.

"You're sorry? So am I. I'm sorry Lizzie has to deal with that prick every day of her life now." Prussia began. Ludwig opened his mouth to interrupt, but Gilbert was on a roll.

"I'm sorry she has no taste in men, and I'm sorry that the damned aristocrat won't ever love her." Prussia got up; ready to stalk off, but Ludwig grabbed his arm without getting up.

"You really loved her, didn't you?" Ludwig's blue eyes seemed even more penetrating than usual. Prussia paused before saying anything.

"Yeah. The awesome me was in love with Elizaveta Hedervary before I even knew what love was. I never stopped- not when she first married the aristocrat, not when she fought against me in the war, and I sure as hell won't stop now."

Ludwig stood up, letting go of Gilbert's arm.

The older nation looked at his younger brother. The albino didn't seem on the verge of tears, like lesser men would have been. Anyone else would only see the fierce determination in his crimson eyes, but Germany knew his brother. He saw the sadness underneath it all.

"Why does it always have to be him? I've always been here for her, comforting her when he wouldn't, caring when he was gone. What about him makes her go back?" He asked.

Ludwig didn't say anything, just helped the older nation back home.

* * *

**Because I'm a creature of habit, I decided to update this thing every Monday and Thursday. I might not have the next chapter ready by Monday, but I'll work my hardest on it.**

**Anyway, its almost summer! What are you guys doing?**

**I just looked at my summer itinerary (yes, my mother makes one every year.)**

**London (Not for the Olympics), Chicago, Connecticut, Dallas and New York City. Plus classes and my social life. I'm going to die. SO MUCH STUFF. D:**


	10. Chapter 8: Pens are Mightier than Swords

Chapter 8:

A Pen is Mightier than a Sword

Germany sighed and closed his eyes, tilting his head back as he sat in his chair.

That was a waste of my time. He thought tiredly. He had just gone through Lovino's therapy session, and it hadn't been very productive.

Nope. It had been_ counter_-productive. Lovino called him names- quite a few things Germany couldn't understand in Italian, thrown pencils and other office supplies at Ludwig- and at one point ha even gone so far as to accuse Germany of raping his older brother.

Germany wondered why he had never punched Lovino before.

"Doctor?" Nicolette's voice asked hesitantly. Ludwig opened his eyes and snapped to attention, focusing on his secretary.

"Yes?" He asked.

Nicolette approached; her heels making her seem taller and more intimidating.

"Lovino is demanding a refund, stating that he won't- and I quote- 'Pay money to be treated by the potato bastard that raped my brother.'" Nicolette said with a dry smile.

Ludwig sighed. "I'll take care of him later. Who's next?" Germany asked. Nicolette looked through the manila folder in her hands.

"A Vladimir Antonescu from Romania who thinks he's a vampire, Francis Bonnefoy who thinks everyone loves him immediately and someone named Alfred F. Jones who keeps shouting that he's the hero."

Ludwig groaned. Leave it to fate to choose his three most exhausting patients when he was tired.

"If it's any consolation, they're all in the waiting area and ready to go. Other than Francis hitting on me, they seem well-behaved."

Ludwig began to tell Nicolette to send them in, but his cell phone buzzed.

Frowning, he picked it up.

"Hello?" Ludwig asked.

"Is this Doctor Ludwig Beilschmidt?" A voice asked.

"Yes?" The answer came out more like a question.

"And are you the therapist of Feliciano Vargas?"

Ludwig stiffened.

"Yes."

"He wants to speak with you."

* * *

Ludwig hadn't wasted time. He had left his office as quickly as possible, with rushed instructions to Nicolette to tell his patients that he would be back soon.

He rushed down the streets in the mid-morning light, still struggling with the sleeves of his dress jacket.

Upon entering the hospital, the German hurried past the front desk and straight to the mental ward, sighing impatiently when he was forced to go through all the security protocols.

The reason Germany was so impatient had less to do with the fact that he still had patients waiting for him and more to do with the fact that Feliciano wanted to speak to Ludwig. Ever since he had been placed in the ward two days ago, Feliciano had remained completely silent. Security footage only showed him sitting against the wall, mute. Other than to eat, the Italian had remained completely still. Numerous other doctors had tried to speak with him, but Italy seemed to be in a state of shock. It had come as a mild surprise to Ludwig that his other personality hadn't shown itself again.

A nurse ushered him into the same room as the first day and stood against the wall as Ludwig approached the glass.

"Doitsu!" Feliciano cried, obviously relieved. The Italian got up and hurried to the glass.

Ludwig remained silent, unsure of what to say.

_He's not wearing a straitjacket._ Ludwig mused to himself. The disappearance of it struck him as odd. Feliciano was still a danger to himself…

"How are you?" Ludwig asked, staring at his feet.

Feliciano looked like he was ready to burst into tears.

"Germany. Please take me away." he begged.

Ludwig swallowed, and forced himself to look his friend in the eye.

"You know I can't do that." Ludwig said quietly.

Italy deflated, but nodded. He had already expected the answer.

"Then can you do something for me?" He asked; amber eyes bright as they focused on his friend.

Germany nodded.

"Can I have a pen?" Feliciano asked, his voice seeming very young.

Ludwig studied the Italian. As far as requests went, this one struck him as odd. He eyed his friend wearily, wondering what he could possible do with a writing utensil. Feliciano kept on staring at him with pleading eyes, and Germany had to give in.

Germany looked towards the nurse in the room, who shrugged.

Ludwig nodded, pulling a ballpoint pen out of his pocket and handing it to the nurse. She would give it to Italy eventually.

Then, without a word, he left the room.

* * *

**Any guesses for what Italy wants to do with a pen? If you have an interesting answer, I might consider it in the next chapter.**

**Anyway, as I said in the last chapter, I'm updating on Mondays and Thursdays now, so expect the next chapter this Thursday.**


	11. Chapter 9: How To Escape a Mental Ward

Chapter 9:

How to Escape a Mental Ward:

Italy was ushered back into his room. It was relatively small and sparely decorated; with only a bed and a nightstand in generic pastel colors.

For a few moments after the nurse and guards had left, Italy just stood there.

Now he had to be careful. Arturo casually uncapped the pen and walked over to a portion of the wall that was directly in one of the five security camera's view. He began doodling; making sure he seemed focused on his task.

Just as he suspected, there was a sharp knock at the door moments later.

Arturo opened it, stepping back a little as he did so to allow the newcomers space. An old nurse who reminded Arturo of a crow was flanked by two guards.

"Feliciano; you're not supposed to draw on the walls." She said stiffly.

Arturo sagged a little, trying to make it seem like he was disappointed. Feliciano was way too easy to impersonate. He acted like a child half the time, and the other half he was plain useless.

"We're going to have to ask you to give us the pen." The nurse said, entering the room and holding her frail hand out for the offending utensil.

For a moment, Arturo was captivated by the hand. The skin was sagging and wrinkly, and the bones were prominent underneath. It would take so little effort on his part to snap it like a twig…

Arturo extended the arm holding the pen, as if he were actually going to give it to her. Right before his hand made contact; his other hand moved as quickly as lightning and grabbed her wrist. Before she could even respond, Arturo pulled her towards him and used her momentum to throw her into the wall. Her skull hit the hard plaster, and she fell to the floor; unconscious.

Then, before the guards could even shout, he threw himself at one of them, pulling them both to the floor. When they hit the cold tiles, he launched the pen at the other; putting every ounce of his strength behind it.

While Feliciano might have been a weakling; he was still a country, and countries were strong. At least twice as strong as any human.

The pen buried itself in the guard's temple. He was dead before he hit the ground.

Arturo pulled himself off the other guard, who was shouting for help and trying to reach his gun. Arturo grabbed the guard's hair and rammed his face into the wall before knocking him out with a kick to the head. After grabbing his gun, Italy fled.

* * *

**Sorry I haven't updated in a while. I was caught up in the typical beginning of summer craziness.**

**Hopefully, I'll keep on schedule from now on. I've been planning on posting a series of one-shots dealing with OC characters (Like London and Moscow). What do you guys think?**


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